CBC-FM, You Ignorant Slut

This interruption in an otherwise-ordely system of blogging brought to you by a disgusting fridge, and a disturbing car ride.

Welcome, listeners.

You know, I am not against the public broadcaster playing popular music.  But there’s a time and a place, and the place is CBC-AM, and the time is midnight, and the music in my opinion should not be quite so heavy on Ben Folds Five.

If you know what I mean.

And CBC-FM especially should not be clogged with somebody’s pathetic attempt to soothe senior citizens with emo-pop…or even Alternadads, for that matter.  Even Alternadads have more than one kind of musical interest, CBC!  And in fact, even as ordinary people, Alternadads change too…though heaven help them if they do, because where, if this ridiculous drive-time full-court-press indie nonsense continues, is a person supposed to find their classical music and their jazz?  Christ, is Opera at the Met next up on the chopping block, in this new hip hell you’re trying to plunge us into?

Jesus Christ…have you started dyeing your hair?

But that’s crazy behaviour;  you haven’t been young for years.  Hey, CBC, you know I love you.  But you’re screwing up.  My father is now irritatedly flipping away from you, and onto KING-FM.  Yes:  a radio station from the States is now delivering less annoyingly commercial music, than you are.  I mean, what is this bizarre wish you seem to have, to make yourself more “relevant”?  Relevance is in the eye of the beholder, CBC…by all means, if you must, toy with it on TV:  drown me in Being Ericas and The Hours and irresponsibly-edited late night movies, IF YOU MUST…

…But really:  is this the proper function of the FM station, to just play loads and loads of Rufus Wainwright?  Is that what you think we want?  Is that how you handwavingly approximate “culture” these days?  Can you not imagine anyone being interested in opera if they are not brought to it by a love of Atom Egoyan, or something?  Do you imagine there are people out there who find Beethoven dull?

CBC, you don’t have to turn on the red light, you know?  The truth is, we’re all going to get older some day, and when we do we may not have the awful time to waste on keeping up with what the young people are into, that we currently enjoy.  At some point we won’t look so pretty as we’re fooling about with it.  At some point we will want something different.  Some Satie might be nice.  Louis Armstrong.  Vivaldi.  Maria Callas.  You know:  old people’s radio.

Doesn’t that sound nice?

If it doesn’t now, that’s only because it will later on.

Now for God’s sake stop all this nonsense, and start acting your age again.

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4 responses to “CBC-FM, You Ignorant Slut

  1. It is unsettling to see my suspicions confirmed: That although I actually am in my twenties, my musical tastes are and always have been an aging programmer’s approximation of what people my age listen to.

    I once saw Ben Folds and Rufus Wainwright ON THE SAME STAGE, AT THE SAME TIME.

  2. Ha! But I thought…surely the laws of physics would preclude…

    I saw Rufus on the Elvis Costello show recently, singing an aria from something-or-other. And I like Rufus fine, but…huh? My mother was nonplussed: “obviously this fellow is more of a crooner; why are they asking him to mangle this aria?”

    “I dunno,” I told her. “Possibly to make opera more hip and relevant for the kids?”

    “Oh, is this…what’s his name?”

    “Rufus Wainwright.”

    “…Is this Rufus what the kids are all listening to, these days?”

    “Uh…no, not really.”

    It comes sorta clear at that point, I think.

  3. A RUFUS WAINWRIGHT CHRISTMAS!

    He could redo the Bowie/Bing thing. That’d be funny. Wait, wait…he could CGI himself into the original, now THAT would be funny. He could dial them down gradually, and himself up. It’d be like a riff on the old Judy Garland Show…

    Oh, Rufus. It’s awful of me to make fun of him like this, he really doesn’t deserve it I guess.

    On the other hand…he’s Canadian, so he’s probably already planning a Christmas Special like that. We do like the dry humour. And the ice-dancing.

    Well, the one’s the same as the other, really…

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